


Liking

by marryingthebed



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward!Gendry, Crush, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryingthebed/pseuds/marryingthebed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was fourteen when she realized she liked him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liking

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt awkward!Gendry, I'm cross-posting this from tumblr.

She was fourteen when she realized she liked him. And even then, there was something fundamentally _wrong_  about it, like she’d just figured out she had a crush on her brother or something.

********  
He and Sam had been over, picking up Jon to go to a movie. “Your brother here?” he’d asked, rubbing the back of his neck, and she’d realized that she was wearing a sweatshirt with a hole in the sleeve and hadn’t washed her hair in two days.  
  
There hadn’t been much to do about it, not then. She’d put on a clean t-shirt and run her fingers through her hair, for when they got back, and then resigned herself to the fact that she was now no better than Sansa. Boy-crazy. She tested the words out on her tongue, wondering how they fit into the tightness that filled her stomach. 

—-

  
She was fifteen and nearly comfortable in her liking of him when he touched her. Really touched her, not just thrown her over his shoulder or tried to tickle her. Bran was in the hospital and her mother wouldn’t stop crying, and Gendry had looked over at her, reached out and touched the tips of her fingers with his own.

 

Later, she’d stared down at her hand and wondered if she felt any different.

—-

And then there was her birthday. Sansa had thrown her a party, inviting practically everyone they knew, as an apology for their latest fight. It was the first time Arya had worn make-up, and it made her skin feel painted-over and too tight, but she sort of liked it anyway, once she’d managed to bite off the remains of her lipstick.   
  
He’d found her towards the end of the party, sitting in the hallway with her knees pulled up to her chest.  
  
“You all right?” he asked, sitting down next to her.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Parties not your thing?”  
  
She shrugged, not really noticing the way his eyes followed the line of her shoulder, skipping down to her collarbone and then, very quickly, her breasts. “Just a headache, I guess.”  
  
“Well, it-it’s a good party.” He laughed nervously, and she saw his hand go to the back of her neck. “And your dress is….good.”   
  
“Good? With all this shit hanging off the shoulders? I look like a tree.”  
  
“A good tree.” She opened her mouth to reply to this, but he moved his hand to her knee, about as smooth as a bulldozer, and she couldn’t think of anything to say except the obvious.  
  
“Did you just put your hand on my knee?”  
  
“No.”  
  
She tugged at his index finger. “What’s this, then?”  
  
“It just fell there, that’s all.” His cheeks were red.   
  
“Uh-huh. I guess the wind moved it?”  
  
“Yup. Did I mention your dress is good?”  
  
Arya Stark was newly-sixteen when she realized that Gendry Waters liked her back.


End file.
